


Breaking Down is Hard to Do

by Fox



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox/pseuds/Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Being euphorically happy has all kinds of cosmetic benefits."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Down is Hard to Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ekaterinn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekaterinn/gifts).



The place was less than thirty miles from the airport. Dan landed on Friday evening at a quarter to six; the GPS in the rental car got him lost twice and he still got there by six-thirty, which is how far out in the middle of nowhere he was, when getting off a plane and renting a car and getting lost twice in rush-hour traffic added up to a total delay of maybe eight minutes.

He checked in to the hotel and managed to get up to his room without seeing anyone; he dropped his stuff and sat on the end of the bed with his head in his hands. After a couple of minutes he hung up his garment bag and went and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent light didn't do him any more favors than it ever had - sallow skin, big nose, mile-high forehead. Bags under his eyes today, for added appeal. He'd stopped counting grey hairs years ago. He sighed and splashed some water on his face, double-checked he'd put his room key in his wallet, and went downstairs to the thing.

He had the elevator to himself, so he had a couple more minutes to try to talk himself into believing he'd have a good time this weekend. He'd always wished that worked better. He bounced on his heels for three floors, and took a deep breath when the elevator dinged at the lobby. A few more steps, around two more corners: Executive Ballroom One. It amused Dan to think that this hotel had more than one executive ballroom. And then before he'd had the chance to grit his teeth and take the plunge, he heard a shriek and turned his head and Natalie threw her arms around his neck and just about knocked him over. "Um, hi."

"Yay! I'm so glad you're here!" She clung, up on her tiptoes.

He hugged her, patted her back. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, probably upstairs changing - we're running a little late. We were at the church forever sorting out all the, you know." Natalie let go of him. "Oh! You meant where is _everyone._ You got here first! But they should all turn up soonish. They all said." And she swatted his shoulder, hard.

"Ow?"

"What is _up_ with you not RSVP-ing until like last week, hello?"

Dan winced. "That must have sent the caterer into a real -"

"Please, I counted you as a yes before we even sent the invitations. But do you know Jeremy has had four separate bouts of really believing there was a chance you wouldn't come? I've had to think up a series of reasons to try to explain your lack of communication, all of which were entirely ridiculous, by the way, because even 'Oh, it probably got buried under a stack of bills' is ridiculous when a person might have expected you to tick the box and put it right back in the mail."

"It's been -"

"I mean, we included an envelope with a stamp on it, Danny. So you're lucky I've got seventeen thousand other things to deal with, or you'd be looking at a punishment of appropriate severity for making Jeremy worry."

Dan could think of nothing that would get him off that hook, so he changed the subject. "You look good, Nat."

"Being euphorically happy has all kinds of cosmetic benefits."

"Yeah, I should try that," Dan muttered.

Natalie cocked her head and gave him a shrewd look. "You really should," she said.  


* * *

There were probably a hundred people in Executive Ballroom One by the time they started serving dinner. About ninety-four of them Dan didn't know, and most of the rest he was kind of avoiding - not dodging them like lepers or anything, but Dan had this sort of talent for happening not to be where people were looking for him. He thought he'd be all right with Isaac, but Dana might be too much of a challenge, and he was sure he couldn't face Casey. But then there were all these other people, the cousins and the neighbors and the family friends. He thought about which sounded worse: the kind of earnest conversation he'd have to have with the people he knew, or the kind of meaningless conversation he'd have to have with the people he didn't. Man. Too close to call.

Jeremy cornered him at the bar cart in the corner, but he probably deserved it. "Hey!" Jeremy said, beaming like a proverbial search light. "Natalie said you were here, but you know, until I saw you for myself ... ." He chuckled.

Dan ducked his head, then handed Jeremy the drink he'd just ordered and signaled the bartender for another. "How you holding up?"

Jeremy puffed air through his cheeks - and grinned again. "I'm walking on air," he admitted. "I'm just on the most incredible high." Dan couldn't help but smile a little. "Even my family's mishegos can't bring me down."

"Your family making trouble?" Dan sipped his drink.

"God." Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Months and months of it. But in twenty-four hours it'll be over."

"Except for the rest of your life."

"Thanks, Dan, that's very helpful." Jeremy laughed. "It's just worse this weekend because they're all together, you know? I don't think my parents have been in the same room with each other in ten years. And my sister and I are the only ones who haven't publicly taken sides, and -" He waved a hand. "So you can imagine."

By superhuman effort, Dan managed not to flinch, at least not so Jeremy could see, and managed not to bolt. Natalie hadn't taken sides, apparently, in the matter of him and Casey; he supposed Jeremy hadn't either, and if Jeremy hadn't been quite so starry-eyed, he'd never have even alluded to the fact that everyone else had, and Dan didn't have to _imagine_. "Indeed I can."

"But like I said, I'm on top of the world." He certainly did look it. "My mood will not be dimmed." He glanced around the room. "Looks like I'm being summoned. I'm really glad you're here, Dan," he said, hugging Dan and clapping a hand on his back. "Thanks for coming. Really. And we'll talk more tomorrow, right?"

"Sure, Jeremy."

Jeremy smiled radiantly and disappeared into the throng.

Dan spotted a nearby table with a single empty seat at it, and quickly moved in to ask if it was free; granted it meant dinner with seven total strangers, but he thought he could probably handle that. Certainly better than the alternative. He turned to the older woman next to him and got to work being as charming as he reasonably could, starting off with about a sixty-watt smile.

He chatted with her for several minutes about the things you chat about with random people at the dinner table: flew in this afternoon; drove from the airport; who could get lost?, there's only the one road!; it's a beautiful spot; they seem very happy; such a nice couple; well, a really lovely family - well; how do you know them?; used to work together; went to college with his mother; are you married, Dan?

Dan felt his smile turn instantly brittle. Just his luck to be in this conversation with someone on Jeremy's side; Natalie's people might have asked exactly the same question, but somehow in that case it would have struck him as polite small talk, which is totally what it was, instead of like his own mother getting her yenta on, which is totally what it sounded like. "No," he said, faking a self-deprecating chuckle and ducking his head to look away -

Casey was six tables away, sitting straight and still and probably just pretending to listen to Dana (next to him with a stack of baby pictures), because he was staring right at Dan. He nodded a couple of times, but his eyes didn't move, and Dana realized he wasn't paying attention, and turned her head to see where he was looking, and now she knew exactly where he was, too. Fantastic.

\- "No," Dan said, turning back to Jeremy's mother's college roommate, "managed to steer clear so far. I'm sorry, will you excuse me?" He smiled again and said it had been nice talking to her and pushed back his chair and asked a passing waiter where the men's room was, so that Casey - and Dana - would see that he was going where the waiter had pointed. Then he left Executive Ballroom One and went past the men's room and kept walking, turning two corners and going all the way down the long hotel hallway and finally out the side of the building, where they banished the last of the smokers, through a door that locked behind him.  


* * *

He sat on a bench a few feet from the door, leaned his elbows on his knees and let his head hang down until his chin almost hit his chest. For what seemed like a long time he was alone. Then a guy in coveralls came out, leaving the door very carefully on the latch; smoked two cigarettes; and went back inside again, letting the door fall shut. Dan lifted his head and looked out at the parking lot for a while. When he'd been outside for what felt like forever and was probably about twenty minutes, he heard someone approach from his right side, and when he turned and saw who it was he huffed a faint defeated sigh through his nose and dropped his head again.

Isaac rolled over and sat next to him. Dan hoped Isaac wasn't going to wait for him to speak, because he was actually doing fine just sitting quietly. He was sure Isaac was giving him that look, half stern and half fond, that used to make him feel like he ought to apologize whether he'd done anything wrong or not. Now it was kind of a comfortable, familiar, safe feeling: Isaac loved him, and Isaac was disappointed in him, and all was right with the world.

Finally Isaac sighed. "You do have a talent for making things about you, Daniel."

Dan looked at him. "Isaac - I mean, I -"

Isaac waved him down. "I know you don't mean to. And it's good you're getting it out of your system today instead of tomorrow." He gave Dan the look for real. "You are getting it out of your system, aren't you?"

Dan groaned. "I don't know. I thought I was. I don't really know what's the - I don't know." He scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"Danny, let me ask you something." Isaac sat back in his wheelchair and looked at Dan like there was a desk between them. "Why did you leave?"

And no, the years hadn't made Dan any less weary of hearing that question. He rolled his eyes up to the sky and spoke into his fingers. "The show was over, Isaac."

"That's right."

"Yeah." It was as if Dan could hear Isaac raise his eyebrow. Damned Socratic method. "And I got a job in Washington. It was a really good opportunity."

"Yes, it was." After a moment Isaac laid a hand on Dan's shoulder. After several more moments he squeezed, then rolled back a bit and turned a tight circle to face back toward the front of the hotel. "Now come on. We might still be able to get some dessert."  


* * *

Isaac's chair had a motor and a kind of joystick he could drive with, so Dan couldn't even be helpful by giving him a push. He walked next to it, instead, being careful not to get his ankles banged up by the wheels.

He supposed he should have expected to see Casey and Dana on the other side of the lobby as soon as they'd gone back indoors. He froze - just for a second, but apparently it was abrupt enough that Casey noticed and glanced over - and Casey looked at him for a moment, lifted his chin, said something quietly to Dana without turning his gaze away from Dan, and turned and went back toward Executive Ballroom One.

Isaac was already zooming toward Dana when she glared and started across the lobby toward Dan. "What the hell is the matter with you?" she demanded.

Dan turned to Isaac. "I, this isn't, I should -"

Isaac laid a hand on his arm. "Dana, could you be more specific?"

Dana was charging ahead. "With the pair of you? I swear, you look and sound like grown men, but in fact you are thirteen-year-old girls." She stopped and held up one hand. "And before you ask, no, there is nothing wrong with thirteen-year-old girls in and of themselves. That's not the point. But their, shall we say, _intermediate_ level of emotional maturity is orders of magnitude lower than what we expect from forty-year-old men. Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"... I'm thirty-nine?"

"Casey is forty-four. I was averaging. Shut up."

"Okay."

"Well?"

"What?"

She gave him a don't-mess-with-me-mister look he figured she'd perfected within days of her kid learning to speak. "I'm waiting for you to explain yourself."

"I'm not sure what there is to explain. It's not as fun as you might think, knowing all your friends are angry at you." He looked at his shoes. "No matter how right they are."

The silence lasted long enough that Dan looked up again. Dana was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. She looked at Isaac, who gave a kind of amused, exasperated shrug with one shoulder. She looked back at Dan. He started to think about turning around and going outside again.

Instead, it was Dana who turned around and went back the way she'd come. "Don't move!" she called over her shoulder. She turned and walked backwards for a couple of steps. "Stay right there. Isaac, don't let him run away."

"If he tries, I'll chase him down."

"Funny man. Dan, stay right where you are." And she was gone.

"Think she'll mind if I sit on that couch over there?" Dan said after a moment.  


* * *

Dan promised to sit on the couch and not flee, so Isaac could go back and see if there was any dessert left. It was better sitting here than sitting outside - the couch was more comfortable than that bench, and it didn't smell of smoke (or of stale smoke), and the nearest door wasn't locked.

Eventually he became aware that Casey had reappeared. He looked up and there he was, behind the armchair at the other end of the little seating area, with his hands in his pockets. Dan stood up.

Casey looked tired. There were more lines around his eyes than Danny remembered, and there were shadows like bruises in the hollows of his cheeks - he'd lost some weight, apparently, more than he'd had to spare.

Just when the silence was getting awkward, Casey spoke. "Well?"

Oh, for - "God, Casey, don't you start with that, too."

"Start with what?"

"You can't just come out here and say 'Well?' like I'm supposed to know what it is you're waiting for me to explain. I told Dana, it's hard to be in a room where you know everybody is angry at you, which I'd have thought was a no-brainer, but apparently what's obvious to me isn't -"

"Danny." Casey was looking at him like he was crazy. Great. "Nobody's angry at you."

"Don't be rid-"

"We all thought you were angry at us. At me."

Dan looked at Casey like _he_ was crazy. Goose, gander, right? "Why on earth?"

"I didn't know, but it seemed like the only explanation for -"

"No, I mean, not 'why was I angry, in Casey world' - I mean, what made you think that?"

Casey spread his hands. "You split, Danny."

Dan looked around incredulously, as though there were anybody nearby he could appeal to for backup. "That's why _you_ were mad at _me_! Because I left!"

"What? Don't be ridiculous -" Casey came around the chair and into the seating-area area.

"That's what I was saying, don't turn around and -"

"- I wasn't mad at you for leaving. That was a good gig you got. It was good for you."

"Yes!"

"Right!"

"Right!"

"So nobody's blaming you or angry at you or anything!"

"Well, I'm not angry at y- at any of you!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

This discussion topic seemed to have run its course. Dan looked around for an escape route - he could see that the front desk people were carefully not paying any attention to them - but he was hemmed in by the coffee table and the other armchair. Casey took another step closer. "So what's going on, Danny?"

Dan suddenly felt a lump in his throat. He couldn't get away, and even if he could have, Casey would follow him now, so there'd be no point. He gave up and sat down on the couch, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I don't ... know," he managed to whisper. Casey sat next to him and laid a hand on his arm. He couldn't decide whether to lean into the touch or shrink away from it. "It's nothing, really. So, I mean, it's everything. I ... ." He sighed.

Casey squeezed his arm a little, and his thumb was moving back and forth. "Well, I - we all miss you."

"Yeah." Dan took his hands away from his eyes and looked at Casey. "I don't think I can go back in there, Case. Not tonight."

"That's okay." Casey had moved his hand and was now running it softly back and forth on Dan's shoulder, as if to soothe him or keep him grounded or something. It was nice. "You want me to go?"

"No." He was a little surprised at how quickly he'd answered. "I mean, if you want."

"No." Casey smiled a little.

Dan was not in any way prepared for the beneficial effect that half-smile of Casey's was going to have on him. It was like the sky clearing after a storm. Well, it was like five-eighths of the storm clouds dispersing. All of a sudden, for the first time in a long time - earth to self, he thought, for the first time since you went to DC, genius boy - the ways in which Dan felt okay were outnumbering the ways in which he absolutely did not. He shrugged Casey's hand off his shoulder so he could grab it with his own and lace their fingers together. He couldn't manage to look away from Casey's lower lip. "Dan?" Casey's voice was kind of raspy. "Danny?"

Dan squeezed Casey's hand and leaned in and kissed him, and it was like coming home - like coming home after you'd been away a long time and the place was dark and cold and silent, god, what had he been _thinking_, that he could go from can't-be-in-the-same-room to making-out-in-the-lobby in under five minutes? His face burned, and his eyes stung. He pulled away, let go, backed off, stood up, stammering apologies, getting ready to run. "I, that wasn't, I shouldn't, you didn't -"

Casey got right up and grabbed his hand again before he could flee. "_Danny_." Dan looked at him - the least he could do was look him in the eye - and Casey kissed _him_, and Dan stood there stunned. It was soft and sweet and not at all wild, not yet, and Casey made a sound so quiet only Dan could hear him, and Dan had Casey's lower lip just slightly between his teeth, and they grabbed at each other's shoulders at the same time, and they were standing in each other's arms and kissing in the lobby of a chain hotel in a small town in Ohio.

They kissed for long enough that they were probably attracting some attention; they pulled back, leaned their foreheads together. Casey smiled again; his lips were a little swollen. "I said I missed you," he said, and drew Dan closer, pulled him in and hugged him, and the hug eased something in Danny that the kiss hadn't been able to. _This_ was like coming home. "What did you think I meant?" Casey whispered. Dan felt his eyes stinging again, so he shut them; and instead of trying to get away to somewhere else, he stayed where he was, wrapped his arms around Casey, and held on tight.


End file.
